


Frank And Mikey’s No-Kiss List

by rxinventlove



Category: My Chemical Romance, Naomi and Ely's No Kiss List (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Bad Parenting, Best Friends, Cheating, Childhood Friends, Coffee Shops, Divorce, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Frerard, Friends to Enemies, Lies, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Strained Relationships, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-04-17 04:34:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14180733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rxinventlove/pseuds/rxinventlove
Summary: Frank and Mikey have loved each other their whole lives, even though Mikey isn't into guys. Their "No Kiss List" has prevented the two from falling apart in the past, but their bond is tested when they fall for the same person.





	1. Lies, Girls, and Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> i’m kinda shitty at sticking to things once i’ve started them, so expect infrequent updates i’m sorry :// anyway naomi and ely’s no-kiss list is my favourite movie of all time and i couldn’t get the idea out of my head to write an mcr version,,, so i’m doing it even if it’s gonna be really shitty

Some friendships are so important, you’d do anything to make them last.

That’s why Frank and Mikey created The No Kiss List.

—

One thing you should know about Frank Iero? He lies. All the time.

“After eighteen years of apartment living and you still believe pressing the down button speeds up the elevator’s arrival” sighed Mikey.

“Implicitly” Frank replied with a grin, as he pressed the button over and over. The elevator opened, with only old Mrs. Stumph and her dog inside.

He lied when he told her that he walked her dog three times a day when the Stumph’s went to Atlanta. But honestly, he was pretty sure that dog hated him.

“Good Morning Mrs. Stumph!” Mikey struggled to keep a laugh in when the dog stretched down to lick Frank right on the mouth. Gross. Frank loved dogs, so much so that he begged his mom to get him one for his birthday—and Christmas—five years in a row, but it was seven in the morning. Too early for sucking face with Mrs. Stumph’s evil dog. _Gross_.

Busting out into the lobby, Frank and Mikey made their way out the door like a tornado on a warpath. Not of course, before Mikey grabbed the sunglasses off Gerard’s head; Gerard was their doorman, and Mikey’s older brother.

Frank lied to himself, that it’s meaningless when he doesn’t tell Mikey that his beautiful older brother _may_ occasionally text him.

Finally, walking down the cold autumn streets of New Jersey, Frank grabbed onto Mikey’s arm—swooning rather dramatically and causing them to almost fall off the sidewalk.

“Mikey, have you ever noticed that Gerard’s left eye is greener than his right?”

“Ew, ew, ew, nope. No. I do not need to hear about your all encompassing love for my brother’s eyes.”

“Why Mikey, do you take me for some kind of amateur doorman stalker? His eyes are only the 37th thing I love most about him.”

“Oh my god, Frank, remind me to introduce you to this girl. Freshman film freak, goes by the name of, uh, Kristin Colby. She’s your girlfriend.”

“Oh...right, but Gerard’s eyes are just so gaze worthy. You know? Fast, fast!” Frank ran across a crosswalk, dragging the taller boy behind him and almost getting them run over by a moped.

“One if these days you’re going to get us killed and no, I don’t. Stop daydreaming about my brother, he’s really belongs on the no kiss list.” The two boys found their way to a newsstand, “I’ll check the news—Frank can you stock up on snacks?”

“You’re still mad that I made you put Mila Kunis on The No Kiss List! The No Kiss List is meant for all truly, madly kissable people and I’m sorry; I know it hurts knowing your lips will never touch her’s.” The laughter was evident in Frank’s voice as he planted a sloppy kiss on Mikey’s cheek.

“Exactly why he belongs on the list! Fuck, Frankie, I can’t believe you just made me say that my own brother is kissable. You wound me.”

“You love me.”

And he lied to Mikey when he said he was okay with straight.

“Do you see that girl on the left?” Mikey looked over his shoulder at three girls sitting at a bus stop, “Cute.”

He is—he’s bi, he’d have to be, it’s like half of his identity—just not for Mikey.

No, not for Mikey.

—

“Do I have to?” The two were standing outside on campus grounds. When Frank had first gotten the acceptance letter to Rutgers he was over the moon. It was a good school and close enough that he wouldn’t have to move into a dorm or another apartment; but now he wished he lived in Antarctica or Timbuktu. He would give anything to not have to go to this lecture.

“Yes. Frank, it's not high school anymore, okay? Have you seen the wreckage of our lives, lately? Seems psych might be good for the soul.” Mikey had his hands on Frank’s shoulders and gave him a little shake for emphasis. “Go in there. Show 'em who's boss. You’re great, I love you, go give them 110% you.”

“I don’t think they can handle 50% me. Come with me?”

“No puppy dog eyes! I can't. You got this, it's all on you.” The taller boy turned Frank around and pushed him at the doors, “Go, go, go! Get!”

Frank turned right back around, walking backwards slowly and stretching his arms out towards Mike like he was falling, “No, I don’t wanna go! Hug me, Mikes? Pretty please?”

“No, no, no. Back!”

“You’re cruel! I hate you!”

“Love you too, dumbass.”

—

Frank also lied to the Rutgers admissions committee when he told them he had a vision for his future. Six weeks in, and he could barely see straight.

“Frank! Over here.” There was Ray Toro: obnoxiously optimistic. Even his hair looked perky. His friend waved him over, only a couple rows down from the top. “I saved you a seat!” Okay, maybe his sunny disposition was endearing, because Frank couldn’t help but smile at him—even though he’d deny it to his grave.

“Thanks, Ray.”

Just them their professor spoke up, “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Today we will be re-examining chapter five in our textbook.”

“Oh, fuck. Mikey always gives me a pen.” Ray passed him a pen with a knowing smile. “Thanks.”

“Access chapter five, page...”

Frank’s phone buzzed with a new text. There was Mikey, already making him feel better.

_srry, luv u good luck <3_

Mikey and Frank lived next door to each other their whole lives. Frank was there when his moms could finally get married. They may have looked happy then, but it became a total shit show when Frank’s dad had an affair with Mikey’s mom, Ginny. The moms’ marriage survived somehow, but Frank’s parents' didn't. So he started lying to his mom to tell her she'd make it through. It's not that he doesn’t think she can, he just doesn't think she wants to wake up from the pharmaceutical haze she's been ever since his dad left.

That’s what Mikey meant by the wreckage of their lives’—and god, that had never been more true. That’s why Frank lies.

But Frank and Mikey always had each other. They were city kids who never had big backyards, so they built their own urban tree house on top of the stairwell in their building. It's their private hallowed ground.

“Mister? Mister? Hello?” The room around him jumped into focus suddenly, he looked around wildly, trying to figure out why everyone was staring at him. Oh, lecture. Right. “Are you finding it difficult to concentrate on our discussion of Freud and the unconscious?”

Frank had to think fast. “Well, it may have appeared that I was zoning out I uh—was actually exploring the very power of my unconscious.” He was royally fucked. Shit.

“Is that so?”

“Yes?”

“Focus Mr. Iero. Now.”

This was going to be a long class.

—  
  
Frank was already making his way down to the Yaffa Cafe when he called Mikey.

“Hey, boo. What’s up?”

“Yaffa Cafe, stat.”

“I'm kind of in the middle of something right now.” Code for hitting on some girl. Fucking Mikeyway.

“Mikey, seriously, come on, please. I need to talk to you. My professor just totally chewed me out. It was humiliating. Be in there in five, please?”  
  
“Fine. I'll see you in ten.” Goddamn it.

The Yaffa Cafe was one of those hipster coffee shops that popped up over the last few years, complete with incense, crystals, strange seating, ridiculous prices, and niche coffee that you couldn’t find anywhere else. It was kind of stupid—but to Frank and Mikey it was perfect.

Frank walked through the door—little bells ringing— and took his seat right by the window. Before he could even think about ordering anything there was Kristin: camera and all.

“Kristin, are you seriously gonna do that all semester?” She was working on her student film, and _without_ Frank’s consent, made him the star.

“What? I'm just trying to capture your essence. Oh, did I tell you? I think I decided on a title for my student film! “Punk In The City."”

Frank almost choked, “Edgy.”

Kristin went to sit down across from Frank and he could put his hands out fast enough, “Uh, that seat’s Mikey. Sorry”

She looked like a kicked puppy, “I’ll call you later then?”

“Sure.” Hopefully not.

Just as Kristin was walking out the door, Mikey walked in. “Hey, Kristin,” and before she could stutter out anything else, Mikey walked over to Frank at their table. “Bye, Kristin.”

Frank tried to hold in his laughter at her face; he wasn’t doing so well.

“Don’t be an ass, poor girl, you’d think she’d take the hint you’re not interested. Or maybe you’d have some pity and put her out of her misery. Have you ever noticed Kristin has nice teeth?”

“I was born to break hearts Mikes, don’t you know? And you’re a whore, that’s my girlfriend.”

“I was just complimenting her teeth dickhead, that doesn’t make me a whore.”

“I wasn’t talking about the compliment.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Mikey said with a huff, chucking a napkin at Frank’s head and Frank tried to hide his grin behind his hand.

He failed, but that was ok.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comment/kudos if you’d like! xojas


	2. Wig Snatching and Other Shenanigans

After the run in with Kristin, Frank and Mikey headed out again.

“Where are we going? I swear to god if you drag me into an ally and murder me I’ll haunt your ass until the end of time.”

“Trust me. This’ll be great, just follow me.”

“I don’t think I have a choice you’re about to rip my arm off”

“Quit complaining Mikes, we’re going on an adventure.” They’d ended up in a community park—and even though being near any park in New Jersey had a reputation for getting people killed, it was filled with kids and families and teenagers probably complaining about school. It was nice.

“I think we should get married here.”

“Well, you make me swoon from the gritty romance of it all Frankie, but what happened to Paris?”

“This time, I don't mean you and me getting married. I mean, me and he.” Frank pointed over to a tree at the far end of the park—and there was Gerard. He was crouched under the tree with a pencil in his hand and a sketchbook in his lap. “Mediocre doorman by night... starving artist by day.”

“I will punch you. Maybe I’ll be the one dragging you into an ally. Gerard so belongs on the no kiss list.”

“Yeah, but where the hell do we put him then? Because obviously Riley Weisberger remains a non-negotiable number one.” Frank pulled them both down onto a park bench.

“Obviously.”

“Rumour has it, she’s doing habitat for humanity crap in Guatemala dodging the drug rap from the senior skip day 'shroom fiasco.”

“That makes me feel old, Riley. Riley. I miss her.

“Of course, Gerard may be your brother; but he's hotter than everyone else.”

“I wasn’t lying about the murder.”

“But he’s in a band! That makes him even hotter!”

“Yeah but so am I!” Mikey sighed like he was dealing with a two year-old; Frank was close enough.

“Shut up Mikey!” Frank didn’t want to think about Mikey onstage, because the “hotter in a band rule” still applied, as much as he’d deny it to his grave. “Admit it, your brother is gorgeous. I think number two on the No-Kiss List is a perfect place for such a man.”

“Well then, welcome Gerard to number two on the no-kiss list.” Frank pulled the worn out journal out of his book bag. It was almost fifteen years old by then—and it showed. It was filled with name after name, doodles in the margins, and stickers stuck randomly throughout. There was even a lipstick stain on the front from the one night Mikey convinced Frank to do drag; needless to say they were high off their asses. Right on the first page, written in sixteen year-old Frank’s chicken scratch handwriting was, “1. Riley Weisberger.” Now, written in Frank’s still pretty shitty writing was, “2. Gerard Way.”

“Mwah,” Frank blew a kiss in Gerard’s general direction of the park, “Let us never forget the importance of declaring certain hottie-mchot boys off-limits.”

“I feel like you don’t understand the concept of a death threat.”

“It is the official insurance against Frank and Mikey breakup.”

“I know Frankie.”

“Friendship where we never fight over people...”

“Is a friendship that lasts forever,” They’d repeated the motto so many times it barely took Mikey any thought to reply.

“Exactly. It’s been done babe, Gerard is officially off-limits,” Frank paused for a moment to wrap Mikey’s arm around his shoulder’s and lean back before speaking again. “If only our parents had a no-kiss list. Then maybe my dad wouldn't live not in the building anymore; far, far away.”

“And mom Susan wouldn't still be sleeping on the couch?”

Frank just sighed and sank father into Mikey’s arms. There wasn’t anything else for them to say.

—

They’d eventually left the park and travelled back into the city, stopping to get more coffee, running around street corners, and Mikey had somehow charmed a vendor into giving them two brightly coloured wigs. Mikey’s was neon blue and Frank’s pale purple; both with bangs and cropped just above their shoulders. They made quite a pair. At some point Frank jumped on Mikey’s back and they made their way back to the building that way.

Stumbling up the stairs like idiots, they traveled up to the top of the building.

With a vinyl on the record player and his wig still somehow on Frank danced. Needless to say he looked stupid, but whatever album Mikey had chosen was stupid and deserved some white-boy dancing.

“Shake that ass!” Mikey cheered him on.

Spinning around to face his friend, Frank shook his hips, snatched his own wig, dropped down into a crouch—and proceeded fall straight on his ass. “Oh, my _god_. I’m so fucking dumb I can’t breathe; I think I broke my ass. Will you kiss it better?” He pulled himself up off the group only to sit right back down on Mikey’s lap. “Did you like my moves?”

“Oh baby, I loved them.”

“God.” Frank sighed, the last of his giggles finally fading.

“Do you know why I love you Frankie?” Mikey leaned his head down to rest on Frank’s and wrapped his arm around his waist.

“Because of my uncanny ability to wiggle my eyebrows?” Frank wiggled his eyebrows to prove his point.

“Oh, my god! I never knew you were a real fuckboy, that is fascinating. Your eyebrows of course, and also because when I feel like sticking my head in an oven, you pull it out, and put cookies in there instead.”

“That was sweet, I love you too. Anyways what are we doing tonight, I was thinking Apples to Apples? Trouble?” Just then, Mikey’s phone buzzed in his pocket.

“Shit Frankie, I got a 911. Mama G.”

“Fuck dude, that’s not good.”

“Gotta go do damage control,” Mikey sighed as he peeled himself away from Frank and off the beanbag, “I love you.”

“Love you more. Good luck.”

And then Mikey was gone down the stairs; and Frank was alone.

—

“And you said this was—um—all locally grown organically?” Mikey was the first one to say anything at dinner. His mom Susan hadn’t touched her food, instead she’d brought her work to the table. Gerard wasn’t anywhere to be found, not that his presence would make it any less awkward anyway.

“I'm glad somebody noticed.” The tension was thick enough to cut when mom Susan looked up.

“Well, forgive me for having work to do,” and then she picked up all her papers and stomped off to the office, leaving an untouched plate behind.

Mikey turned to his mom, “I take it couples counselling went well today?”

She just laid her head on the table and sighed.

—

Things weren’t looking any better in the Iero household. Not at all.

Frank gently walked into his mothers room, tiptoeing around the clothes and dishes scattered around the floor. “Hey, mom.”

She looked up with a dazed grin—at least she’d actually looked up today “Hi, baby.”

“You hungry? I was thinking of ordering Chinese.” She didn’t reply, only continued to flip through the scrapbook in her lap.

“Look how thin I was there.” She looked wistful and lost in thought, Frank hated when she got like this; stuck in the past and oblivious to anything around her, and although he did get the appeal of wanting to stay in the past, he didn’t get that luxury.

“Am I in any of these with you?” He gingerly sat down next to her, careful to not move anything incase she was in a mood to yell at him.

“These were before you were born.”

“Here's some of me,” He pointed to a photo of him and Mikey at the beach at the bottom of the page—they must have been two or three years old. “I look so much like dad there.”

His mom’s face turned to a scowl and she looked at Frank like he had killed her cat, “The selfish bastard's not even gonna send money this month.”

That wasn’t good.

“We'll still be okay, right?” he said, worrying his lip between his teeth.

“I don't know. Maybe I'll start a jewelry business.”

What the fuck? “What do you know about jewelry?”

“Remember that beading set you got for Christmas one year? And you never used it because you thought it was a girls toy? I played with it sometimes.” She smiled at him again before turning back to the photos.

Frank couldn’t get out of that house fast enough.

Clad in Star Wars pyjamas, Frank knocked on the Ways’ door. Mom Susan answered, already on her way out of the house looking like she was on the verge of tears

“Can't sleep again?” She smiled sympathetically at Frank. He just smiled back, equally as sad.

”At least you guys are working things out, you know? That's what counts.”

“Thanks,” She just looked at him like she doubted that was really true anymore. “Anyways, I think he’s in his room.”

“Goodnight Mrs. Way.”

“Night Frank.”

Mikey’s room never changed: band posters lined every available wall, clothes were thrown all around, and stacks of comic books were so high Frank was sure if he added one more on top it would topple. He stopped to look in Mikey’s mirror. He tried not to focus on the bags under his eyes and instead looked to the pictures tucked into the sides of the frame. Mikey’s sixteenth birthday party, graduation, smoking on the balcony, late nights at the top of the stairs, these were the best moments of their lives and Frank was glad for the memories these pictures brought.

All the usual things were there, but instead of Mikey on the bed, there was a note with three red Starburst’s stuck to it.

 _Tension too thick...._  
_Hitting up the end of Happy Hour w/ a hottie_  
_Be back by 10:30...  
Wait for me!_

_xo Mikes_

 Frank looked to Mikey’s bedside clock. _12:04am_. Fuck.

So Frank just did what he always did when Mikey was late; he pulled the duvet up to his arms and settled in to wait. Maybe he never really managed to stay awake, but it was the thought of waiting up that counted.

And really it wasn’t Frank’s fault that he fell asleep—Mikey should have been back. He shouldn’t have left Frank alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comment/kudos if ya wanna!! i promise spicier things to come :) xojas


	3. The One Where Gerard Does Not Wish For Frank

Frank woke with a start when Mikey gently shook his shoulder.

“Frankie,” He’s leaning on the bed over Frank and smells a lot like cigarettes, strongly of beer, and a little like sex. The ache in Frank’s chest at the last one makes his sleep fogged brain jump awake.

“Mikey, where the fuck were you?” His tone is angry—the way his dad talked right before he fucked off to nowhere—and Frank knows he probably shouldn’t be this pissed, but he always worries when Mikey doesn’t come home on time. Frank likes to think he’s allowed to have some abandonment issues at this point.

“I love that you worry, but happy hour had a happy ending. I made out with the hottie.

Frank silently stared in disbelief.

“Ok dude, you're giving me that same look you gave me when I told you Whole Foods stopped carrying chocolate-chip bagels... I’m sorry?” Mikey’s mouth turned downwards into frown and his forehead creased as Frank continued to stare.

“No, _I’m_ sorry Mikes, it's just, since when do you go around kissing random girl?” He tried to keep the jealous tone out of his voice.

“It's not random. She's from Newark and she invited me to her parents' place for Shabbat on Friday night.” Mikey’s worried look didn’t disappear completely but it faded and he looked explicitly more dreamy than he did a few second before. Frank denies to himself that it’s because of the girl from Newark. Mikey’s probably just drunk.

“You're not even Jewish.”

“No, but I could be. We're twenty-first-century punks from New Jersey—We don't believe in god, we don't believe in anything.”

It was so cliche and horrible Frank had to smile. “Whoa, I don't not believe in anything. I believe in the no-kiss list.”

“And red velvet cupcakes,” Mikey butted in. That made Frank laugh out loud.

“Yeah Mikes, red velvet cupcakes. And I believe in you. Now snuggle me, I’m cold and you’ve gotta make up for leaving me all alone. Princes aren’t supposed to leave the damsel’s in distress.”

Mikey settled behind Frank; arm draped over his waist and spooned up close against his back. It was comfortably quiet for a few minutes before Frank spoke up again.

“Since when do you actually go around kissing girls?” The words were too loud in the silent room.

“Since there's actually some super cute girls for me to kiss.” Mikey hugged out a laugh but it seemed wrong to Frank’s ears.

“But in high school, you never even...” His sentence trailed off and he regretted even saying anything. He sounded stupid.

“High school, shmigh school. Yuck. In high school, I was the kid brother of the comic nerd who got shoved into lockers every other day. I’m pretty sure the girls who did know I existed thought I was gay just because Gerard was. College‘s different. Now, I can, like, actually meet girls. Lots of girls.”

“So... now you're, like, definitely not gay?”

“I've always been definitely not gay. You know this Frankie.”

“Right. Of course. I mean, obviously,” Frank’s sentences were stutter-y like they never were normally and concern practically radiated from Mikey at his back. “But nothing has to change, right? We're still Frank and Mikey?”

“Of course we're still Frank and Mikey,” He brushed Frank’s hair back from his forehead and sighed one of those put-upon sighs; the kind that was pasted between old married couples or twins or people who had known each other just short of forever. “Now, we're just Frank and Mikey plus girls.”

The ache in his chest flared up again violently.

Frank Iero lies to everyone.

But mostly, he thinks he lies to himself.

—

Frank and Mikey walked to _Sweet Nothing’s_ the next morning. (“Best cupcakes this side of New York” Frank would tell anyone he could)

The line was unfairly long and Frank couldn’t stop bouncing up on his toes—Mikey had to hold him down by the shoulders to actually be able to talk to him.

“So tell me, are you gonna do it with Kristin?” Mikey let go of his shoulders and the bouncing started up again.

“Yet to be determined. Should I go for coconut or red velvet.”

“You've been dating for like, a month which basically translates to a year in college time, and yet you're still doing things that end with "alking,” instead of things that end in "ucking."” Mikey emphasized with a thrust of his hips that Frank very pointedly ignored in favour of gazing at the cupcakes through the window.

“That was a rhetorical question, it’s always red velvet.”

“Frank. What are you waiting for? Seriously she’s fucking obsessed with you.”

“I don't know. Hey, if I get red velvet, would you go coconut so we can split? Actually I kind of want to eat it all.”

Mikey glared until Frank finally caved in and got with the topic.

“Ok but that’s kinda the thing, she’s obsessed with me. It’s scary. Plus, she’s Canadian.”

“That’s very true.”

“And she’s a Kristin which is just kind of...” Frank trailed off.

“Millennial?” Mikey guessed.

“I was thinking more vanilla.“

Frank finally turned from the window to look at Mikey. To anyone else his expression would look blank but Frank knew by the minute quirk of his mouth that Mikey was amused with Frank’s antics.

“She tells me I'm her muse though, which is interesting?”

“Interesting indeed.”

“Anyways, I told her to stop by the building tonight.”

“So you actually like her?” Mikey’s eyebrow raised, turning his expression from entertaining to sceptical in seconds.

“I mean, I don't know. Maybe I do, like you said: we're in college. So there's no reason I shouldn't just go for it.”

“Exactly Frankie. Hey, would you kill me if I say I’m too strung out for sugar?”

“You read my mind Mikeyway,” That wasn’t strictly true, but Frank didn’t have it in him to deny Mikey anything. “Home?”

“Home.”

—

That night when Kristin walked into the lobby, Gerard wasn’t at his desk. Instead he had a broom in hand, his headphones on, and was dancing around like no one was watching.

To be fair though he probably thought nobody was—it was just Mikey sitting on the couch and he’d seen Gerard naked as the day he was born and dressed up in drag. Mikey was basically nobody.

Mikey looked up from his phone to wave at her, “Hey Kristin.”

Gerard startled and fell on his ass, blushing bright red, and glaring weakly at his brother. As fast as he could manage, Gerard stood up and brushed off his pants, “I’m sorry ma’am, can I help you?”

Mikey snorted and looked back down at his phone

“Yeah! I’m looking for Frank.” Her smile never wavered even as she watched Gerard flick Mikey on the back of the head and Mikey pinch him hard in the stomach.

“He’ll be right down,” The younger brother drawled, not looking away from his phone. “He’s just finishing plucking his eyebrows; he was beginning to look a little Frida Kahlo. So not pretty.”

The elevator dings just then and Mikey still doesn’t look up. It’s just Patrick—old Mrs. Stumph’s kid—carrying the evil Frank-hating dog in his arms.

“What are we all doing here?”

The elevator dings again just as everyone in the foyer says “Waiting for Frank.”

“What about me?” Frank stops short when he sees the crowd.

Before he can move any further Kristin is on him.

She practically runs up to him and plants and wet kiss on his lips. A wet, loud, awkward kiss.

Gerard looks startled, Patrick looks confused, and Mikey’s face doesn’t move a goddamn muscle; he just shoves his phone in his ridiculously tight jeans and stands up.

“You guys ready to go?”

Frank nods frantically and takes Mikey’s arm as they walk towards the door.

Kristin does a double take, looking to the pair of boys, to Gerard and Patrick, and back to Frank and Mikey, “He’s coming too?”

Gerard just shrugs and Kristin scurries along after them.

—

_When the foyer doors swing shut Gerard lets out a sigh and finally sinks into the couch next to Patrick._

_Gerard Way has made a lot of wishes in his lifetime._

_Right then he wishes that it was him on that date with Frank, not Kristin, and he silently hates himself for it._

_Mikey was probably going to murder him for wanting that._

_He breathed out another sigh, “Fuck.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comment n kudos if you’d like?? xojas


End file.
